novumberries

[novumberries]

3. horn goat horns spiral into twisted shapes and in their grooves we read archaic omens. helixes curved around thrice prophesize the death of a godless son, aching and left without heart. branching bones that always point north wait for the night the stars blink out of the sky. the devil laughs with horns of pitch black, lines carved deep with glowing red rings, and the angels come down to combat him, their antlers curved together to form near-perfect halos. 

january prompt challenge 

#nosebleed club #writerscreed #twcpoetry #poeticstories #rebumbleblossoms #poetryportal #ok i kinda almost like this one #its hard to actually make the time to sit down and write im too busy playing minecraft #i write these at like 5am #mine #january prompt challenge #what's better #forcing urself to write something every day n being done with it #or taking longer to carefully work on things but then also maybe not writing enough #idk actually lol

[novumberries]

2. bewildering when i close my eyes, i can imagine your hands running over mine. guiding my grip, leading me blindly. we used to play a game where we walked home like this: one leading, one blind. those nights, the streets were quiet. those days, my laugh was loud. sometimes i led you to the curb on purpose. sometimes i walked you too close to the trees. you never knew - save for the rare occasion you stepped too far too quickly, and i couldn’t stop you from plummeting off the two inch sidewalk. even then, you held your eyes shut. you wanted to prove how much you trusted me. you reassured me that i could do the same. so then what could i do, when i finally opened my eyes in the dark and realized you were nowhere to be found?

january prompt challenge

#nosebleed club #poeticstories #rebumbleblossoms #twcpoetry #brokensoulsreborn #poetryportal #bewildering is such a weird word idk what to do with it #anyway i miss this game #i miss lots of things tho all i do is miss #throw the ball to me? i will miss #baseball is abt the yearning #(stupid) #ok on to the next one #mine #january prompt challenge

[novumberries]

1. power outage  “maisy doesn’t understand the definition of restraint.” you are speaking but i am preoccupied, watching the way your lips move and how you roll your eyes and how you hold a knife and how you plunge your arm elbow deep into electric cattle. under you, the mechanical beast spasms and stills. artificially glowing eyes fade out as you pull at thick wires and power cords, soft intestines replaced with metal alloys but spilling out all the same. i put a hand to my stomach.  “was it you or her who shattered the sheet of tempered glass?” i ask, and your lips curl up at the sound of my question. around your wrist, live wires snap and crackle. lightning runs at your fingertips. somewhere, a blade glistens. i realize you are not afraid. 

january prompt challenge 

#nosebleed club #january prompt challenge #i was going to post 1-4 tgt but then i changed my mind so now they r separate #ok cool!! i am rlly rusty #writerscreed #rebumbleblossoms #twcpoetry #poeticstories #poetryportal #brokensoulsreborn #ok anyway now i'm gonna just post all 4 of these at the same time #i also have a bunch of old stuff that i will post #u gotta start somewhere right #happy new year!! i hope ur year is going better than mine so far #mine #they r all girls btw

[novumberries]

love! she calls in a voice like honey and wheat, pale gold of morning warmth. i answer with a purple howl meant only for the moon, and run away swiftly. disappear at the stroke of midnight into the dusk-coloured woods with bruises that match. what could i know of love? what could i deserve?

#writerscreed #rebumbleblossoms #twcpoetry #poeticstories #poetryportal #poetpardy #brokensoulsreborn #13cupsofteareblog #something short ish #that i wrote for a simple crwr class #online classes are kinda rough rn huh #anyway it's an easy exercise u write 10 lines and each line has one more word than the last :) #i wanted to write something gold & lilac #honey & lavender #bees & wolfsbane #mine

[novumberries]

we roll up the rug together. underneath are little bits of construction paper from art projects i never finished cleaning up or i never finished at all. my life is full of these scraps; untidy leavings.

“what would i tell her, even?” i discover in the grooves of the hardwood a single bent ring, try to pick it up with my toes for the added challenge.

you go get a broom. “you tell her the truth. they thought it was something harmless, but it’s looking like it might be serious, and you wanted to reach out because it has given you some clarity.”

“the insurance isn’t cooperating. do you think she could get the insurance to cooperate?” i hold down the metal dust pan on the floor in front of you, gently scooping lint into the pile with my bare hands.

“nobody can get the insurance to cooperate.” you have a trick to getting dirt perfectly into the pan - you somehow never leave one of those little lines behind.

“so i go up and i’m like - hi! we lost touch. i have a heart condition that might kill me and they don’t know what it is. it’s scary! anyway, wanna grab lunch?”

“you could like, offer a specific lunch place.” you gesture for me to open the trash bag, i struggle with finding the correct orientation. 

i have to shake it open. “this sound gives me the heebie jeebies and like, i don’t know why. you ever have, like, sound-heebies?”

“like, specifically for metal on teeth. you could start the conversation like that, maybe?” you pour the dust in. i spot a penny in the dinge too late to rescue it. “like - hi, i am afraid of trash bags.”

“not afraid! they’re just too loud and shouty.” i shimmy it gently so it rests at the bottom. i stare at it, penny winking through dust. “what if she hates me? what if she thinks i’m like, super ugly? am i ugly, patrick? what if she hates me and she thinks i’m super ugly?”

you stack your hands at the top of the broom. take a deep breath. “you know, i don’t wanna be that guy to someone with a weak heart, but.” you rest your cheek on the back of your knuckles, grinning. “but maybe you care too much about what people might think about you.”

“i don’t know how to stop caring!”

“yeah, that’s fair.” you close your eyes. “but you chase catastrophe, kind of.”

i stare at my hands. “not on purpose.”

you put the broom against the wall. you take a deep breath. ghost your palms under mine, almost-touching, not-quite-there-yet. like you’ll catch me if i start going, but you trust me enough to keep standing. “you are living in the catastrophe,” you say. “you are already experiencing a worst-case. late-stage capitalism. pandemic. global warming. all of it. there’s no need for you to imagine worst-case situations. you are trying, and you are caring, and you are alive in despite of all of it.” 

“yeah, but. i just….” i never stop thinking. the skin of me is full of beetles. i can never rest and i haven’t been sleeping and no matter how much planning i do i never seem to be able to get my life up and running. “… i just. get nervous.”

“it’s okay,” you say. “i’ll be your friend anyway. even if she finds you ugly.”

#inkskinned #i love these dialogue excerpt ones w/ the voices & the characters & the little actions w/ all their details they're probably some of my favs #what a weird way to tell u all my dad has cancer i say #my writing is embedded & swallowed by other ppl's writing that is so much better than mine #but it's important to read!!! #write more!! if u want to improve!! not all of it will be good!! #admiration

[novumberries]

kitchens become so essential to the heart of a house. the space you and your siblings tried to shove too-hot cookies into your mouth; the space you made whipped cream into a waterfall and tried to catch it in the air; the space you burnt your first batch of cupcakes.

the space she stands, shoulders curled, and asks you, coldly, if you’ll give her the room. the dog skittering away from any scooted chair. a silence, thick and eerie. a set of burns, and broken plates, and fearfully stealing what you need to eat. the knife, clean and agile, his hands angrily slicing meat. 

i juggle three grapes effortlessly. he bounces an apple off the back of a knife, she jumps to catch it in her teeth. we dance with our hands up to the sound of the oven timer beeps, shouting and stomping and howling tunelessly. i bake another set of cookies for no other reason than “it feels like cookie weather,” nobody yells at me. we stack thick tomatoes on top of our heads to practice our balancing, he slides me a sandwich when he’s worried i didn’t have time to eat.

my friend asks me if i feel like i’m home. on the stovetop; ginger tea is boiling over, but we are all laughing. nobody is slamming drawers, nobody is closing cabinets so hard the dishware rattles. nobody is scrubbing dishes violently. nobody is asking what i was doing in the fridge, nobody is shouting. 

it’s different, i say. it’s happy here. we are, you know, friendly.

so home, she says. you feel like what homes are supposed to be.

#inkskinned #thinking abt food!! lately #thinking abt how love is expressed thru food #thinking abt how damaging it is to think abt food #october is spooky month & i love it sm #i want to write more & talk to all of u and get to know u & have cool writing buddies but i am not consistent enough for that i don't think #:( #too busy too swept up #but i am here!! i am!! i exist!! #admiration

[novumberries]

i wish you would use your words to look at me but i know you never will. so instead i swim through bitter secrets & muddied guilt pretending i can read your mind, pretending this is not hades’ blade, carving open my throat. rendering us both silent. leave me to make up answers to questions i cannot ask. you are made of these things: all darkened red and faded bruises. tenderness turned sore under a gentle press. shining fear still glistening on your cheekbones.

#writerscreed #re-bumbleblossoms #twcpoetry #poeticstories #poetryportal #poetpardy #brokensoulsreborn #13cupsofteareblog #rebumbleblossoms #spilled ink #this was us!! what we became!! that's cool #hey guys u know what's weird the fact that all my exes had the same name :$ #uh oh what does that say abt me #i'm making that face you know that emoji :$ #where the mouth goes up and down at the same time #the wonky one #:$ #best part is it's not even a cool name #mine

[novumberries]

poem made of the way we wander, a sage and hay graveyard. bones are  easy to come by and collected in bags, the way animals stumble in the dust and wrap their bodies with sun, larvae of small and secret creatures. kill is such a sharp word. let us  rust away easily with the sound of scavengers keening ahead (or at least singing).

#julykings #admiration #i love u #it's almost summer now which means i can rise again & be filled w warmth #spared from the other 8 months of cold dreariness #& maybe write again #sorry i've been gone for so long #everything is different now

[novumberries]

i promise i am still breathing. i promise i still wake up every day -- even if it’s long past noon & i spent the night before feeling tiny & terrified, spent the night suffocating myself & counting losses instead of wins. i promise i still made it through. still make it through. 

i thought about telling my mother countless times. we hardly talk but i thought about calling her, telling her ‘this is what i’ve become’, but i think she would blame herself too much. more than she already does. at night she dreams of me & my father and i don’t know which face she hates seeing more. 

my brother is just like me. five years younger & laughs off fear the same way i do. when i went home for the weekend, knuckles white from holding my bags too tightly & unable to look anyone in the eye, i felt like i had failed him. i’m scared that he’s floundering with his head above the water, the same way i am, but how can i give him answers to questions that still haunt me?

five years older & i am supposed to be the protector. instead, it’s 2 am & my brother locks himself in his room, an image of fierce smiles & sharp teeth until he is alone. the walls are paper thin & he cries quietly in his bed & i cry quietly on the bathroom floor & we pretend like we cannot hear each other. 

- no place like home // all 

#writerscreed #twcpoetry #rebumbleblossoms #poetryportal #poetpardy #brokensoulsreborn #my last post was the day before classes started & now my last final is tmr holy moly #i miss writing #i'm rly stressed abt not being good at this though #ugh #spilled ink #mine

[novumberries]

here are some things: you, cider, and music from the 90′s.

“are you sure you’re good with me staying over?” you ask. i’m painting my toenails bright bright red. you’re digging through your duffel bag. my cat won’t leave you alone.

it doesn’t need to be asked, so i don’t give an answer. i correct a smear with my thumbnail.

here are some things: once you told me to feel your hair, and when i reached out, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

“i got new socks,” you tell me.“check it.”

they’re fluffy alien socks. “job lot,” you say, “three ninety-nine.”

and then, grinning, you pull out a second pair. “So we can match,” you tell me. “they’ve got nonskid footies.”

here are some things: when i was six i once spent an hour coaxing a spider into a cup even though i was terrified. when i first met you, you smiled at me and i knew, suddenly, what it was like to be a spider in a cup.

you laugh at the look on my face, “I know,” you say, “i’m your best friend and you love me.”

i look down. and i tell myself. here. act like this is nothing.

#god i love this sm #breathing life back into my body #thank u i love u #inkskinned #admiration #x10000

[novumberries]

guttersweet

define the scary in my skull / sharp teeth like trileptal binge / you’ve got me by my work ethic / you’ve got me by the veins, blood & all…you don’t know the half of it but you cut apart my bones anyway / magazine-feathers flap flap / asking, begging, for xanax dreams again / but dull-eyes don’t get epitaphs /

you have what it takes / rainwater tuesday and it’s not even 1:00 / i’m strangling my own dynamics, trying to dredge up all of your silver, unpublished secrets / there just aren’t any anymore / the gutters sing like forest fairies, orgies & all / there’s no sex in these waters, just lonely elegies that never found a home • july 16, 2018

// inspired by a prompt (sharp teeth & rain water) sent in to me by the fabulously talented & amazingly nice @wroteghost //

#I love this so much you did such a good job #admiration #futuredenver #dull-eyes don't get epitaphs #wowowowow #the gutters sing like forest fairies #for me #I'll go back to writing soon #I hope

[novumberries]

your girlfriend is asking to meet up  with you today & I am asking why do you keep calling her that. when  you have been dumped & re-dumped  more times than I can count, why  is she still your honey. when you  dream of her at night, but the thought  of her bleeding heart sucks the air out  of your lungs & leaves you breathless  in a very bad way. she calls, to  book a reservation in your presence  & you forget to land on your feet  when you fall out of bed. but, these  days, grovelling on your hands & knees seems to suit you better, after all. 

-- how many times have you crawled back to her? // all

#u fool don't do it #spilled ink #something short ish #mine

[novumberries]

last run untill scrap yard / locomotive dream carriage howling madness as suggested to me by anonymous

// another dead july, nothing moves

not even the desert sunflowers, sieve dream, dust and pebbles and white spirit horses lurking past prairie //

the engine coughs like old bill did when he visited me, morphine sadness and addiction and sickness, following

– the train’s dying on its wheels

deadmanwalking / crawling –

// it’s a long way down and everyone’s talking and it’s all too much and it’s all so surreal and there’s an overwhelming sense of loneliness & oblivion //

but that’s just how it works, doesn’t it?

the fires of older cities gasp, break, talk. there’s nothing left to say and so much left to do. for all of us.

○ july 15, 2018 ○

#have I told y'all that I frickin love trains?? #'locomotive dream carriage howling madness' is just such a perfect string of words I literally cannot sit still #deadmanwalking / crawling #vibes are so good #admiration #futuredenver

[novumberries]

tips on writing pleaseeee

hey! I made a lil list of my writing tips not too long ago– you can find it here. hope that helps!

#anon #it's just some of my personal tips #hopefully it can help you in some way! #have a rly nice day :) #love answers

[novumberries]

go to florence. look in the eyes of michelangelo’s david, chiseled in stone but softer than rosemary. they say he wore a crown of gold once before it was taken from his head. he is planted in stone but his eyes are too human for your liking; they beg you, put it back.

the antinous mondragone, the marble smooth and cold like winter ink. you remember it was unpacked with lipstick marks on its cheek; someone at the louvre with lips smeared cherry red had made herself hadrian and kissed it. you remember thinking, who could blame her?

sappho and erinna in the garden at mytilene, captured by simeon solomon. it’s been a while since you’ve cried at a painting. you’ve gone to museums armed with ways to analyze what you’re seeing; you know what clouds are saying, you know the language of flowers. but you looked at the painting of those two women clouded in their embrace and didn’t even realize you were crying until you looked at your notes in your lap and the pen was smudged with tears.

the universality of love. it hasn’t changed: two boys swathed in light, two girls in a garden teeming with flowers, a gaze from across a room. in the statues and paintings we are captured in our gentle, tender humanity, in the places where we think no one is looking, where we are allowed to feel vulnerable. where we are finally able to say, look, this is me, this is you, this is everything that love should be. i want to make you feel it.

#i love you #admiration #worldsinmywords

[novumberries]

what reminds me of louie:  

a bouquet of sunflowers, held together by dark hands & brown twine. stems cut too long, faces larger than herself & still searching for the sun. 

picasso earrings. a melted flow of looping gold, the same curved cheek from two different angles.

blood splatters across clipped angel wings & the look in her eyes screams heavenly art. 

both brock & hampton. mosh pit dancing in platform shoes. bangles on her wrists, arms in the air. 

books & essays & pages & paper splayed across a cafe table. favourite quotes highlighted carefully & lines of poetry scribbled in the margins. 

three wishes from a genie. polishing his lamp in return, with the sleeve of her yellow turtleneck. 

a wedge of lemon floating in a decorated teacup. eyes tracing its citrus beads; breakfast smells like honey & lavender. 

geryon, with his yellow eyes & red everything. pleading for his own forgiveness. 

#I finally showed louie ahahaha #I'm glad she liked it so much!! I'm v happy #the school year will be long #srb

[novumberries]

it’s 5:30 am and i’m holding a jar filled with the dreams of someone else  tiny bits of sand and shell and gray matter. i want to spill it on the pavement it’s 5:40 am and i have stared at the stars for awhile  wondering how many go unnoticed against  a black-and-blue sky. i feel sorry for them. i look anyway  it’s 5:50 am and the jar is gone  it didn’t shatter as i’d hoped but there’s a millennial trail of fragmented pieces now crushed into some old pavement, rather than scattered throughout my body  it’s 6 am. he opens the sunroof and i stick out of it there are no cars, a smell of rain and i feel something instead of nothing. the sun starts to rise. i am no longer looking for stars.

so tonight that i might see// hnl 2018 (via badpoetsclub)

#admiration #badpoetsclub #so much love for u!!!! #makes my heart sing